


twist me up 'til we blur the lines

by jbhmalum



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: ..... yeah that sums it all up i think, Bodyswap, Don't take any of this seriously, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mutual Pining, idiots to lovers, it's not in the fic, it's one scene and not very detailed, jerking off, not my fault all their minds are in the gutter, oh boy, too many dick/sex jokes i'm sorry maybe i'm actually 16 years old, very brief mentions of alchohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29899941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbhmalum/pseuds/jbhmalum
Summary: “Did you just call me Ash?”Luke looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “Yeah? What the fuck am I supposed to call you? Finally going by daddy or something?”“Shut up,” Calum huffs, trying to let out a chuckle, but his brain has been reduced to the equivalent of a keyboard smash. Complete with question marks at the end.He brings his arms in front of him again, staring at the bloodmoons that he usually likes to drool over while looking at Ashton.OR Calum wakes up in Ashton's body.
Relationships: Calum Hood/Ashton Irwin, Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings
Comments: 18
Kudos: 42





	twist me up 'til we blur the lines

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello yes i wrote this no i don't have any explanation for it other than i watched an interview a few days ago and someone had commented something like "we just witnessed a cashton role reversal cause calum talked a lot and ashton didn't" and Naturally this is where my mind went  
> also i wrote almost all of this yesterday it felt like a fever dream. stick with me, don't take this seriously, and please enjoy! have fun! xx
> 
> title from Dark side of your room by All time low

Calum can tell something’s amiss as soon as he wakes up. Which is surprising already, because usually he needs about four cups of coffee until he’s able to process anything. 

It’s just– there’s something weird about the smell. Smell is usually not something he takes stock of first thing in the morning. Why would he? His space is his space, and it sports his own smell that is indistinguishable to him, so really to him it just smells like nothing. The only reason he could have to smell the citrusy and musky sent in these sheets, would be to have fallen asleep in someone else's bed.

That rings a couple warning bells; he does not remember anything like that happening. They're on tour. They're all fucking exhausted; if they were to go out and somehow find someone to sleep with and  _ go to their place, _ it would be on a day off. Even then. Calum doesn't like sleeping around on tour. Not anymore at least. Not when there’s a red haired drum playing best friend that’s been taking over a lot of his thoughts.

With a frown, he slowly opens his bleary eyes, rubbing them to try and get rid of some of the sleep that is still clinging to him. He hits his nose with his hand on the way to his eyes, eliciting a groan that he's surprised isn't as deep as it usually is at this time of day. Maybe his body is more awake than he thought. 

When he finally blinks his eyes open, glaze free, he lets out a sigh of relief. He's not in a stranger's bed. He's in his bunk; he can tell immediately by the light coming through the side of the curtain illuminating the edges of the familiar space. 

That doesn't explain why the weird smell, but he shrugs it off. Maybe one of the guys pulled a prank and rubbed their dirty and sweaty clothes on his pillow or something. That definitely sounds like a Michael thing to do. Maybe he should start plotting his revenge. He could do something equally disgusting like farting or jerking off in Michael's bunk or something. Yeah, that'll serve him right. 

Suddenly his stomach makes a loud noise of deep hunger, which has him letting out another groan. Okay. He's really fucking hungry. He should get up anyway, get away from this bunk and steal Michael's cereals. And Luke and Ashton's too while he's at it, because why not. 

He hides his face in the pillow while he opens the curtain, not ready to face the light yet. Only open eyes when coffee in body. That works. 

Maybe that was a bad idea. He intends to roll out of bed and maybe onto the floor, like he usually does because  _ none _ of his body works before coffee. Except, when he does, it takes him far too long to hit the floor, and when he hits it, he hits it hard. 

"Oh fuck," he groans, bringing a hand to the small of his back, and really what the fuck is with his voice? 

Confused, he looks to his right, and, okay. He's pretty sure that's his bunk right next to him, but he's also pretty sure that's not where he just came from. Because his bunk is fully closed, and when he looks up to Ashton's above him, he can see the pulled curtain, indicating why it felt like he fell from a cliff. 

That would explain the sent, fuck. Too bad, means no messing up Michael's bunk. Well, technically, he could still do it. That just means he'll have to worry about retaliation, but each thing in its own time. 

And then it clicks. What the fuck was he doing in Ashton's bunk? He's pretty sure they've not shared a bed to cuddle in like three years. His eyes widen suddenly, because shit. Fuck, did they finally sleep together? Did Calum fucking finally ask him out or better yet jump on his dick or something? Oh, that would be fucking sweet. Only thing is, his body doesn't feel like he jumped on a dick the night before, so maybe not that. Hopefully, it was something close enough. Coffee. Coffee will make him remember better. 

He sits up groggily, his back aching like crazy when he does, and then he stops. Because, since when are his legs so fucking white? Did he drown himself in bleach or something? He reaches out a hand to touch the skin, see if maybe something comes off it, only to have his breath leave his body, making him a bit dizzy. 

Wow. Those are not. Those aren’t his arms. All his tattoos are missing. Even worse, there are fucking bloodmoon tattoos on each of his fucking arms. What the actual fuck? Okay. It’s cool. He brings a hand to the back of his head, checking for a bump. He must have fallen too hard off the bunk, and now he’s in a coma where his arms are Ashton’s and, well, probably his legs, too. He needs to wake up, and have coffee, and then he can go back to doing whatever it is he was doing with Ashton.

“Morning fellas,” Luke says suddenly, startling Calum out of his thoughts as he gets into the bus. He’s dripping sweat — Calum’s not even exaggerating — and having trouble breathing from his morning run. He glances towards Calum briefly with a nod that means good morning before rummaging through the cupboards for whatever it is he needs.

“How you doin’ Ash?” he asks

“Ash’s not here,” Calum replies, groaning as he lets himself tip over so he’s lying on his side on the floor .

Luke takes a glass and fills it with juice and rolls his eyes fondly, as if Calum’s just said something funny. Luke is weird like that sometimes. “Are you that tired, it’s not even early, man. Pretty sure even Michael is awake.”

“Pretty sure that’s because he’s like, super cheesy and can’t sleep once you’re up.”

“I mean, probably.” Luke shrugs. “Have you not had coffee yet?”

“No–”

“Also, what the fuck are you doing on the floor? Get up.”

“Shut up, resting my eyes, stuff is weird.”

“You’re weird,” Luke says, making his way to the back lounge with his breakfast. Is this fucker going to actually sit on the couch while he’s still all sweaty and smelly? Maybe _ he’s _ the one Calum should be worried about, not Michael.

Before Calum can say anything though, Luke passes by him, kicking him in the thigh.

“Come on Ash, get up. You just look stupid,” he says, and what? Calum is on his feet in a second, fully awake. Oh fuck, he didn’t drink last night, did he? He’s having a hard time finding balance and Luke just called him Ash.

“Did you just call me Ash?”

Luke looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “Yeah? What the fuck am I supposed to call you? Finally going by daddy or something?”

“Shut up,” Calum huffs, trying to let out a chuckle, but his brain has been reduced to the equivalent of a keyboard smash. Complete with question marks at the end.

He brings his arms in front of him again, staring at the bloodmoons that he usually likes to drool over while looking at Ashton. Is Luke sharing Calum’s coma?

“Okay,” he says with his too high voice. “Okay, well.”

Luke is still looking at him with eyes wide like saucers, before shrugging and disappearing into the back lounge. Calum’s cusses again, and runs to the bathroom. He needs– he needs to see himself.

“What the fuck, man!” Michael shouts, wrapping his towel around his waist hastily.

Shit, shit, Michael, just out of the shower. The mirror is fogged up, and anyway Michael is standing right in front of it.

“Shit,” he whispers, and Michael frowns, probably because Calum isn’t moving out of the bathroom while Michael is half naked.

“Ashton, what the hell man? You alright? You look a bit... pale.”

Ashton? He called him Ashton too? Fuck. What the fuck. He knows the legs, and the tattoos, but– that’s only in Calum’s head, right?

“What?” he asks, throat tight.

“What do you mean what?” Michael asks.

“Just…” Calum lets out a sigh, pushing Michael out of the way and wiping down the mirror to get rid of the fog.

“Dude, what’s wrong with you?” Michael whines, but Calum barely hears him.

Because staring back at him from the mirror, in all his glory, is Ashton. Fading red hair, buff chest covered by a plain black shirt, strong tattooed arms Ashton.

“What the fuck,” Calum whispers, reaching out towards Ashton’s–  _ his  _ reflection, eyes growing more wide when he sees Ashton’s arm mirroring his.

“Ashton, you’re kinda scaring me, dude. Did you smoke something?”

“Mike,” Calum says, turning around to his best friend, and fuck it, it’s clear that this is Ashton’s voice now. “I’m– I’m not Ashton.”

“What?”

“I’m not Ashton. I’m Calum.”

Michael scoffs. “Yeah, right. Can you fuck off so I can get dressed?”

“Michael, I promise, I– fuck, how can I prove this to you?”

He looks around, as if the bland bathroom is going to give him answers, but obviously it doesn’t. So he looks back to Michael, and something comes to mind. Boy, Michael is going to hate him, but this is an emergency.

“When we were twelve,” Calum starts, lowering his voice so Luke doesn’t hear, and already Michael frowns. “You came over to my house. And we had a sleepover. We watched It together, and we were both scared shitless, so you had a nightmare about it and you wet the bed. We had to be so sneaky to change the sheets so my parents wouldn’t see us in the morning.”

Michael gasps, cheeks getting red with embarrassment, before shouting, “This fucker, he was sworn to secrecy, I’m gonna kill him.”

“Mike,” Calum hurries to say, stopping Michael before he can go and wake Ashton. “I never said anything. I wouldn’t have broken the Best Friend code. We started that when we were like, nine, remember? It's me.”

Michael blinks, once, twice, five times, and then he stumbles slightly, catches himself on the wall.

“Calum?”

“It’s me, dude. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

“What the fuck?” Michael shouts, and Calum shushes him.

“I don’t know, I woke up, and everything was weird, and turns out I was in Ashton’s bed, and now for some fucking reason, I’m Ashton. This doesn’t make sense. Why am I Ashton, Mike?”

Michael blinks. “Do you think Ashton is also you?”

“Well,” he says. That is a good point. “Why don’t we go and find out?”

***

They find Ashton in Calum’s bunk, fast asleep and wearing nothing other than Calum’s face.

“Holy shit,” Michael whispers, looking from Calum to not-Calum. “Cal, this is fucking trippy.”

“Dude, tell me about it.”

Everything considered, breaking the news to Ashton could have gone worse. Michael tells Calum to hide while he wakes Ashton up, gently coaxes him into sitting next to Luke on the couch in the back lounge while he’s still half asleep. He’s lucky, Calum thinks from where he’s peeking, because apparently Calum went to sleep last night with pants that cover his entire legs, and a full on hoodie. Doesn’t have to freak out right away.

“You smell gross,” Ashton whispers, head resting on Luke’s shoulder. Calum can see his own face blink at the voice. “What the hell is wrong with my voice?”

“Well,” Michael starts, looking at Luke, who is still in the dark just eating his granola bar or whatever it is that’s in his hand while boringly scrolling on his phone.

“Cal, why don’t you come here,” Michael says.

Luke finally looks up with a frown on his face, looking from Calum-Ashton to Michael as if he’s being crazy, and then Ashton totally chokes on air when Calum gets out of his hiding spot and comes into the room.

“So,” Calum says. “Hey Ash. Seems like we’ve got a bit of a situation.”

“What the fuck is happening?” Ashton squeals, which is fucking weird coming out of his own voice. “Cal? What–” He looks down at himself, patting down his body in a frenzy. “ _ Cal. _ Why aren’t you freaking out?”

Michael waves him off. “Nah, he already did that.”

“Someone care to explain what the fuck is going on?”

And so, with their limited knowledge of the situation, Michael and Calum set out to explain their predicament to Luke and Ashton. Calum can’t help but look at Ashton as himself, because if realizing he’s inside Ashton’s body was weird as fuck, it’s incredibly unsettling to see Ashton’s mimicks and facial expressions animating his own body.

Ashton turns a little pale for a second, but Luke seems to think it’s the funniest thing in the entire world, so much so that he snorts juice out of his nose and onto Ashton’s lap. It’s really gross, but it gets Ashton out of his daze, and he lets out a chuckle before saying they need to think rationally about all this.

“What is rational about this, Ash?” Calum says. “We look like each other, Freaky Friday style.”

“I’ve never seen that movie,” Ashton says, and Calum rolls his eyes. 

“Me neither, that’s not the point. This is all weird, and–”

“What are we gonna do about the tour?” Luke asks suddenly, as if he’s just realized something, and they all turn to him. Well, shit.

“I mean, we only have four shows left,” Michael says. “You guys could swap places? Or, I mean. You wouldn’t, but it would look like you did. We can just say we have something special because we want to try it out?”

“I mean, that’s not a bad idea,” Luke starts, shutting Michael down when he starts to smirk. “Shut up, only time I’m ever telling you that. But, you have a point. What do you reckon lads?”

And, well, what choice do they have, really? So they all agree, thinking about what sort of post they’re going to put up to warn everyone that it’s what’s happening. Management is not going to be happy, but they’re gonna have to be firm in their decision, because they have to do it that way, otherwise they’re screwed. Ashton probably could do with playing the bass, but he doesn’t know half of the lyrics, and Calum would for sure not be able to get away with playing the drums.

They don’t have a show until tomorrow, anyway, so that lets everyone a bit of time to get prepared.

Ashton says he needs to get some air to process it all, so they let him go. Calum can see him get confused when he puts some of his own clothes and they don’t really fit, but he makes it work, and with one shy smile Calum’s way, he’s gone.

Then Calum goes to get dressed himself, opting for sweatpants and a hoodie that won’t look too big, and then he looks from his bunk to Ashton’s. The sad realization hits him then, that he did not wake up in Ashton's bed because he fucked Ashton or anything else interesting, but only because he fucking  _ is  _ Ashton.

His life absolutely sucks; how is he going to fuck Ashton if he’s Ashton?

***

After the initial confusion and disappointment at not being able to sleep with Ashton (Michael reminds him that he’s been wanting to do that for months if not years; “don’t throw a fuss now when you could have done it earlier”), Calum decides that he should probably have some fun with this.

Calum is really lame, though, so after a big breakfast (he really was hungry), he just spends a couple hours in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, thinking about how adorable it is to see Ashton’s body in his clothes and admiring Ashton’s face from up close. It’s a bad idea, probably, because he can feel why he’s completely infatuated with Ashton, whatever that means. He’s been close to Ashton before, they often are, but it’s not like he lets himself stare often.

Okay, he does stare a lot of the time, because he’s only human and Ashton is hot as fuck and he’s always just  _ right there, _ but usually he’s not this close to him. Now Ashton’s face is just a few inches in front of him, which stupidly makes his breath hitch because if it was the real Ashton they’d be so fucking close to kissing right now.

_ I should have kissed him when I had the chance, _ he thinks dramatically, before shaking his head. He  _ will  _ have the chance. They can’t possibly stay like that forever, can they? Granted, they have absolutely no idea why this happened (not that they’ve looked much; he makes a mental note to remedy that), but surely it’s not irreversible. It can’t be.

Ashton knows a lot of weird people, anyway, wouldn’t be surprising if it turned out one of them was a wizard who could fix this. Unless that same wizard did this to them. Who would do this? This is rude. This is rude! He may be taking advantage by inspecting Ashton’s face and touching his arms like a horny and too easily impressed teenage boy, but he still would like the real thing better. 

He’s going to get the real thing as soon as this is done with, he tells himself. No more being stupid about it. Ashton might reject him, but he won’t know if he doesn’t try, does he? In the meantime, he’ll just look at Ashton’s pretty face, and wills himself to get his shit together. Maybe he’ll write down his speech while looking in the mirror, picturing saying it to Ashton.

He snorts at himself. Right. As if he’s ever going to do that. If he does anything, it’ll probably be something like jumping at Ashton and kiss him stupid. That’s easy enough.

Right?

***

After lunch, during which Calum eats too much bread and he quickly realizes that Ashton never does and that it was a bad idea, they both sit down to talk. It’s incredibly confusing, once again, to watch himself move and speak without being the one controlling it.

It’s also pretty obvious that Ashton isn’t completely at ease moving around in Calum’s body. Which makes sense, they’re made totally differently, body parts not reacting the same way to brain signals. Calum gets it, truly. He can already tell that Ashton’s body is more fluid and flexible than his, and he has to be careful and move a little more slowly, because yeah; Ashton’s body is a well oiled machine, and it works better than his.

He has to reign his mind back in so it doesn’t end up in the gutter once again thinking about what Ashton’s incredibly flexible body can do.  _ Fucking hell, Cal. Get it together you horny little shit. _ (He hates that this sounds like Michael. He really does.)

“Well, looks like I am one sexy motherfucker from here,” he says, pointing at Ashton’s shirt that’s squeezing Calum’s body too tight.

“You’re so full of yourself,” Ashton says with a roll of his eyes. Calum almost thinks that there’s a slight flush to his cheeks, but then again he’s not really sure. It’s hard to tell on his skin.

“So,” Calum starts, clearing his throat when the silence stretches for too long. “Okay, we have to agree that we can’t do weird shit until we figure this out.”

Ashton nods. “Totally makes sense. Like what, though?”

“Like… yoga! Don’t put my poor body through yoga Ashton I beg you, it’s not going to end well.”

“I–” Ashton starts, ready to argue, but then he closes his mouth and just pouts, conceding. “Fine. Yeah, guess I can do that. And  _ you,” _ he points to Calum. “You can’t drink in my body. You just can’t.”

“Oh,” Calum says, his own pout on his face. He wants to make some sort of joke, but Ashton looks pleading, like he’s ready to beg Calum if he even slightly disagrees. Calum’s not that much of a dick, thank you very much, but he gets Ashton’s carefulness. He’s barely been sober for a month. “No, of course I won’t,” he says, and Ashton’s (his own, whatever, it’s weird) shoulders slouch in relief. “Might just start letting that hair grow on your chest though, dude.”

“You’re just jealous cause you can’t even grow chest hair,” Ashton says, laughing when Calum just crosses his arms and glares at him. “Man, I  _ am  _ kind of intimidating, I get it now.”

Calum raises an eyebrow. “What do you get?”

“That folks think it’s hot?” The grin on Ashton’s face tells Calum that he would absolutely be a puddle of goo in front of it if it had been on Ashton’s actual face.

“Fuck off,” he says, which just makes Ashton laugh. 

And oh, god. He already misses Ashton’s stupid high pitched giggle. He is stupid. And maybe in love, but that’s a thought for the back of his own mind. If Michael asks, he just wants to fuck Ashton. And possibly take him out on a date, but no need to be in love for that, surely.

“Also,” Ashton says. “I feel like that’s a given, but huh. We shouldn’t, like. Go out and sleep with anybody, right?”

_ I’m currently somehow possessing the body of the only person I want to fuck, idiot, _ Calum thinks, but he shuts up.

“Well yeah, duh. Don’t trust you not to put my dick in weird places, anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! Just. We don’t have the same taste, that’s all.”

“You afraid I’d put your dick in a girl?” Ashton deadpans, raising an eyebrow.

Calum shrugs, going for nonchalant, as he tries not to think about Ashton sleeping with a girl with Calum’s body. Shit, if his face flushes with this pale fucking skin, Ashton will definitely see. “Well in part, yeah. But really I just think your taste is shit.”

“Is it now,” Ashton says, looking at Calum with a raised eyebrow. Calum just clears his throat, and Ashton chuckles. “Well, tell me if there are other things you don’t want your precious body to go through.”

Calum flips him off, reveling in Ashton's laugh at the sound, even if it's not the real thing. He’ll hear that soon enough, he hopes

***

For some reason, Calum had not thought about the technicalities at all. And by that, he means using the bathroom.

It’s not that he usually needs to pee every ten minutes usually, but still he’s surprised to see it takes him until they’re all out to dinner before he needs to go.

“You order for me, Ash,” he says when everyone sits down at a booth at the back of the place. “I need the bathroom.”

And then he’s standing in the bathroom and he goes to open his pants, and that’s when he realizes; fuck. This is incredibly unfair. He can’t believe this is the first time he gets to touch Ashton’s dick. He thinks the man washing his hand is looking at him weirdly though, so he hurries to do his business quickly, definitely not looking down.

There’s nothing that could be hot about this, he reminds himself. This is gross and mechanical. He finds himself quite successful, and before long he’s watched his hands and is back at the booth with everyone, waiting for his cheeseburger and some weird salad that Ashton insists will be good for his body.

Despite the obvious strangeness of the situation, dinner goes well. Michael and Luke keep bickering like children (somehow, all that didn’t stop when they got together, it only got worse, and Calum will never understand that; it’s whatever, they’re strange), and Calum tries to ignore how weird it is seeing Ashton eat almost so elegantly with his face across from him. Ashton must  _ hate _ the way Calum is stuffing his face.

When they get back to the bus, everything is still weird, but he figures he ate rather well, so he focuses on that.

“I am fucking spent,” Michael groans, face planting onto the sofa by the kitchen. “I ate so much that I could sleep forever.”

Luke huffs where he’s looking for his phone charger in his bunk. “Please do, that way you’d shut up and maybe we’d get some calm around here.”

“Fuck off dipshit,” Michael mumbles, words lost in the pillow, but they all hear his next words perfectly. “If you really wanted me to shut up you’d be here with you dick in my–”

“Fucking gross,” Calum groans, flopping down on top of Michael. “God you really do need to shut up.”

“I know, that’s why I need–”

He pushes Michael’s face further against the seat, and everyone laughs while he whines into it.

“Luke, tell your boyfriend to stop harassing Ashton and I with your sexual exploits,” he says, letting Michael go.

“You call them sucking each other off an exploit?” Ashton scoffs, and he has a point.

“You’re right, it’s not.”

“Fuck,” Michael says, frowing up at Calum when he lets him go. “I keep forgetting you’re not Ashton. This is so weird.”

“You’re weird,” Ashton says, before calling dibs on the shower, no matter that no one is fighting for it, and then he’s gone.

Luke joins Calum and Michael on the couch, settling over the both of them.

“Ow,” Michael groans where he’s being squished against the seat.

“Fuck off, you’re heavy,” Calum says. He didn’t think he’d ever end up sandwiched in between these two. Huh. Much to think about. Except, ew, no, his brain needs to shut up.

“You love me,” Luke replies. Nobody says anything for a while, and then Luke goes on. “Weird to think that Ashton’s about to see you naked right now.”

Michael scoffs. “As if he doesn’t want that.”

“Oh shit.” If Calum could have sat up, he would have, very suddenly. “Oh no, that’s terrible.”

“Yeah,” Luke sighs dramatically. “Sucks he’s gonna see your dick and you won’t even be there to enjoy it.”

“Are you  _ happy  _ about this right now?”

“I mean, it is kind of ironic that you want to fuck him and now, well.”

“Michael,” Calum frowns, hitting Michael’s arm. “Did you tell Luke I want Ashton? I thought I told you that in confidence, asshole.”

“No, I didn’t–”

“I don’t believe you–”

“Cal,” Luke says. “You basically undress him with your eyes, like, all the time. Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“Yeah, honestly I don’t even know how Ash hasn’t figured it out,” Michael wheezes.

Calum sort of takes pity on Michael then, and also both of his friends are dicks, so he pushes Luke off him and onto the floor. He ignores Luke’s scandalized noise and goes to hide in his bunk, trying not to think about how it’s gonna be his turn to see Ashton naked soon. Fucking hell.

Ashton is out of the shower soon enough, though to Calum it feels like an eternity, wondering what Ashton is thinking, or doing.  _ Probably just washing himself, _ Luke’s voice says in his head, while Michael’s shouts  _ could go either way, mate, making fun of the size of your dick or having fun with it. _

Neither are helpful.

He tries his best to ignore everything when it’s his turn to shower, but it’s not as easy as he’d thought. He tries not to look down as he gets undressed, but he forgets there’s a mirror right in front of him, so he gets an eyeful of Ashton’s cock between his legs. “Fuck,” he says, immediately closing his eyes, because as much as he wants to look it feels awfully wrong to do so, like a violation of Ashton’s privacy. 

So he ignores it as long as he can, washing his hair with Ashton’s shampoo, rinsing it thoroughly (he hopes he’s not missing, like, forty different steps). But he can’t help the way he gets worked up, his heartbeat picking up and his body waking up once he actually washes himself and starts feeling the tangible weight of Ashton’s body underneath his hands.

He wants to reach out and make himself feel good, but he doesn’t.  _ Respect Ashton’s body, _ he thinks through gritted teeth. He turns the water cold, and finishes his shower like that.

***

“You should wear the teal shirt,” Michael says, sprawled on the couch.

“But I had it on the last show,” Luke argues, holding another shirt in front of him. “I like this one.”

“But it’s white,” Michael says, as if that meant anything. “At least pick out a black one, we’ll match.”

“Ash, what do you think?”

“Hey, I’m your boyfriend, why do you need Ashton’s advice.”

Calum lets out a huff. “His fashion sense is more than being as emo as possible.”

“A true fashion icon,” Ashton agrees, coming up to Luke. “Sorry Mike, I’m the chosen one.”

“Y’all suck,” Michael grumbles, but he doesn’t seem too offended, only goes back to his phone. 

Calum watches from where he’s getting dressed into Ashton’s black jumpsuit — Ashton insisted — as Ashton himself helps Luke pick out a shirt to go with his leather pants. He’s already dressed in the clothes Calum picked out for him, always the first to be ready.

He’d suggested Calum take an ice bath, but he shut that conversation down quickly. He tried it once, and it was absolutely terrible; there is no way he’s gonna do it ever again. Ashton hadn’t protested too much, understanding, though Calum had heard him grumble that he was going to need to catch his body up when they returned to normal. Calum had laughed, and promised to at least wear the jumpsuit, which he’s now fully in after struggling a bit.

Calum can see Michael’s eyes not subtely at all flicking towards Luke when he finally changes into a shirt, something bold and red. Calum rolls his eyes and kicks him in the shins for it, but he’s jealous that he can’t also ogle Ashton from the corner of his eye like he usually does. He hadn’t realized he did it so much, but now his eyes keep searching for Ashton and finding himself instead, which is more than disappointing. He can still see Ashton in the way he smiles or says things, but it’s not the same. He’s never wanted to be himself so bad.

The day has been kinda weird, surprisingly. First thing in the morning, they had a talk with management regarding the “switching of places” that didn’t go over so smoothly, and so that was a bit tiring, even though they still had the last word.

During lunch, Ashton was a little weird, too. He was quiet, even more than usual, kept frowning at his plate and missing his cues when being directly talked to. He’s been weird since then, staring at Calum ques Calum gets it. Ashton is probably freaking out, even if he isn’t saying anything. Or, maybe he hates the fact that he’s in  _ Calum’s  _ body.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Michael had said when Calum had whined about it to him. “You know just as much as I do that Ash is probably glad he’s stuck in your body instead of mine or Luke’s.”

“Yeah, only cause he’d be scared to get jumped by the other of you,” Calum had joked, but he’d been glad for Michael’s reassurances, because he was right.

After that he’d still managed to spend the afternoon with Ashton, hunched over his laptop trying to find a reason for all this. They ended up with jackshit, obviously, apart from a Supernatural episode that Calum vaguely remembers watching years ago, because when has the internet ever been useful, right?

Which is probably why Ashton is a little jumpy again, still that way when they finally make their way on stage. 

“Ash,” Calum says, tugging on Ashton’s elbow. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ve rehearsed.”

“I don’t know, Cal. It’s not really what I’m worried about. I just–” Ashton sighs. “This is weird, you know? Uncomfortable. I’d love to be looking at you when I look down from my drums.”

Calum lets out a small smile, squeezing Ashton’s elbow. It seems to be the right move, because Ashton’s face soothes out a bit, shoulders slouching before Calum’s even said anything.

“I know,” he says. “We’ll find something, yeah?” Ashton nods. “Come on, at least enjoy being taller than me and having a toned body.”

“Hey, I have a toned body,” Ashton pouts.

“Oh, I know,” Calum says. “Believe me, I know.”

He almost regrets saying it, but the flush overtaking his body feels good, and the way Ashton smiles warms him up inside.

“Come on,” Luke says, breaking them out of the moment. He’s holding Michael’s hand. Gross. “We’re up. Break a leg.”

Ashton gives him one last smile, and then they’re on stage, and they let the magic happen.

***

The show goes well, and so do the others. It’s a little strange, Calum’s having to adjust to Ashton’s voice not reacting the same way his usually does, but he makes it work, and the fans go crazy. They talk about it everywhere, and contrary to their worries, no one questions that something might be off. They just seem excited that they’re doing something like that.

So, that’s something that goes well, and that Calum actually has a whole lot of fun with. It’s also fun meeting fans after shows and taking pictures and saying things like “man, that picture would have looked much better if you’d taken it with Calum instead”. That gets him laughs, and people screaming  _ cashton!  _ which does make him a little crazy, but it’s  _ fun. _ That part of the whole thing is fun.

But, well. Okay. Calum wants to be a good person, he really does. He doesn’t want to make Ashton comfortable in any way, even if he doesn’t have to know what Calum does with his body. That’s maybe the worst part though, doing it behind Ashton’s back. It feels so wrong, every time he almost does something, every time his hands wander a little too low.

But it’s getting harder and harder to just... hold off and keep those hands to himself. He dreams of Ashton every single night, more intensely than he used to and in more details, now that he knows what Ashton’s body actually looks like, leaving him almost dry humping his mattress when he wakes up, way too sweaty. Which means he has to take a shower in the morning, too, which is such a cruel punishment, giving him more time with the man of his dream’s naked body, and by the seventh shower in four days he just can’t hold back anymore.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts with his forehead against the shower wall, trying to stay silent. He doesn’t really care about making noise usually, because they’re all men and they get horny and those boundaries have sort of blurred out from living in such close proximity, and he’s been subjected to Luke and Michael’s loud noises too many times to care about that anyway. It’s just– he doesn’t want Ashton to hear him, because there’s like a fifty percent chance that he wouldn’t be okay with that.

So he tries not to think about the fact that it’s Ashton’s cock he’s jerking off for a second, but it’s pointless, because it’s exactly what’s making him lose his mind right now. Instead he just lets himself fantasize. He thinks about what his hand is feeling, pictures himself jerking Ashton off, the real Ashton, from behind him, holding him close and taking in the citrusy scent that’s been following Calum around as if in mockery. Pictures himself whispering into Ashton’s ear, sweet nothings as well as encouragement for Ashton to be more vocal until he makes him finish.

Despite this all being hot as fuck, he realizes that the image he’s painting in his mind is almost too sweet, too comfortable, because he’s totally picturing an Ashton who’s in love with him and–

“Oh  _ fuck,” _ he lets out again, biting his arm to quiet himself. What the fuck is he thinking about, being in love, this isn’t what– he shouldn’t allow himself to think that. Shouldn’t think about more than Ashton’s body.

Still, he keeps thinking about it, his mind getting away from him as he pictures a sleepy Ashton getting him off in bed in the morning, kissing him goodnight sweetly the way Michael does Luke, eyes saying that they’re gonna do anything but sleep, and shit, he can’t ignore the fact that the whole domestic aspect of it all is what makes him finish faster, thoughts of Ashton coming with him while saying he loves him in his ear.

He doesn’t let himself time to think about it, tries washing himself quickly before getting out and getting dressed quickly. He’s still shaking a little when he makes it to his bunk. He crosses Luke and Michael on the way there, both giving him a knowing look from where they’re cuddled up on the couch of the back lounge. Calum just blushes and gives them the finger before hiding under his covers.

Once he’s safely wrapped up, he can’t help but let his mind wander. It’s not that he never knew he was into Ashton. If he’s being honest, he’s been into Ashton in some way since they met, even though it was very minimal in the beginning, something more like admiration and adoration. But a couple years ago he realized that he really wanted to be physical with Ashton, and well. He never tried to stop that. He even entertained the idea, told Michael right away, even. Michael was very supportive, and Calum was happy about all of that, but only because he never thought there was a possibility of it happening.

And mostly, because that was supposed to be just a sex thing. He’d thought, on multiple occasions, that he could have been close to hooking up with Ashton during a party here and there, mostly because of the whole atmosphere, but it never happened. But if it had, it would have been okay, because Ashton also likes to hook up, likes having a bit of fun. That would have been it. Just fun.

Apparently, it’s not exactly that anymore, is it? Well, fuck. Not the plan stupid heart. Not the plan.

***

He can’t look Ashton in the eyes the next day. He’s too ashamed by what he’s done, not being able to control himself enough that he violated Ashton’s body just the way he didn’t want to. Ashton spends the day holed up in his bunk anyway, telling them he’s looking for answers as to what happened to them (because they still haven’t figured that out) and for ways to reverse it all.

Michael and Luke are too annoying, keep making lewd gestures and fake moaning at him, so Calum ends up getting grumpy, which is just great, and the mood inside the bus is phenomenal.

“I’m going for a walk,” he says when it hasn’t stopped even after lunch.

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke says, winking at him. “Don’t do anything weird in those woods.”

Calum flips him off, but Luke doesn’t care, already focused on hiding his tongue down Michael’s throat, right here at the table. Gross idiots.

He ends up walking for much longer than he intended; there aren’t actually any woods around, but there is some sort of hiking trail nearby that he chooses to follow. It’s not a difficult hike, so he’s free to spend it trying to listen to music while his thoughts wander to Ashton, and to what they are, and to what maybe they could be, if Calum were brave enough to ask.

He can’t believe, that day he woke up in Ashton’s bunk and body, that he even for one second thought he’d actually done something about it. Because the truth is, no matter how much he likes to joke around and actively think about Ashton, Calum is a coward. He is. It’s not even that he thinks it’s impossible for Ashton to want this with him. There’s actually a lot of things that would point to Ashton wanting at least some part of this.

But he doesn’t do so well with change, he thinks. Not emotional change, at least. That would affect a lot of things. That would give the band more chances for things to go wrong, what with Luke and Michael also being together. He’s pretty sure they’re forever, these two, no matter how weird their relationship is, but you never know. And he doesn’t even know what he and Ashton would even be, and that’s a problem, surely. That would be too much risk.

When he gets back to the bus the sky is starting to darken slightly, the sun getting lower and darker too, shading the sky a myriad of blues. Michael is waiting for him, sittin on the floor with his back against the bus. 

“Hey,” he greets Calum, patting the ground beside him. “Didn’t get lost, I see. We were starting to worry.”

Calum sits down beside him, turning his music off. “Aw, Mikey was afraid something bad happened to his best friend,” he teases.

“Yeah, like getting lost or spraining your fucking ankle, something dumb like that,” Michael says, smile too bright.

“You’re a dick.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

They’re silent for a while, only sitting together, each other’s company enough. Calum’s always found it fascinating, how he can just be around Michael without anything happening, without a word being said, for hours, and it never gets uncomfortable. That happens with the other two as well, in some capacity, but with Michael it’s always been sort of different. It’s like they’re wired the same way, so they understand each other. It’s probably a result of them having known each other for so long.

“So,” Calum sighs after a while, when they can’t see the sun anymore, disappeared behind old industrial buildings far in the distance. There are enough stars for them to still be able to see each other though.

“So.”

“I’m in love with Ashton,” Calum starts, because he needs to say it, see how it feels. “Which, I guess I’d sort of known that, in the back of my mind, but for some reason jerking off with his stupid hand last night made me realize it. It’s ridiculous, and it might fuck things up, but fuck, I love him.”

He doesn’t really know what to expect, but he knows he expects  _ something. _ Except Michael remains silent for too long, which is very uncharacteristic of him, so Calum turns towards him, only to see him trying to hold back a laugh, Calum can see it in his eyes. He last all of two seconds before he lets it burst out of him, free and loud and fucking...  _ dumb, _ is what is it.

“What?” Calum asks, slightly hurt, slapping his friend on the back of the head.

“Nothing, nothing, it’s just,” Michael starts, before laughing like a crazy monster again. Okay, he gets why Luke thinks Michael’s cute sometimes. “It’s just, it looks like you’re saying you’re in love with yourself with that face.”

Michael laughs again, hiding his face into Calum’s neck. Calum can’t believe he’s choosing now to focus on Calum looking like Ashton.

“Oh fuck you, I’m having a crisis.”

“No you’re not. You’re just stupid and in love,” Michael says, the words contrasting with the way he’s looping his arms around Calum’s neck.

“Hey! If you’re just gonna be a dick about it, I’ll go and tell luke about that wetting the bed thing,” he threatens.

Michael freezes against his side, laughter dying down. “Don’t you dare.”

“Well then be nice, asshole.”

As expected, this sobers Michael up, so Calum lets himself be hugged, listening to his best friend give him advice. He’s not sure how valuable it is, but he figures he knows a thing or two about being in love with your bandmate.

“I think you should do something about it,” is what Michael ends with. “Especially if what you’re scared about is not rejection.”

“But the band–”

“The band will be fine. Dude, honestly, Luke and I are a mess most of the time we’re not fucking, and everything is still good.”

Calum makes a face. “Stop reminding me you two sleep together as if I don’t hear you daily, jeez. Also, you’re not a mess, what are you saying? Okay, you argue too much, but it’s just banter. Unless there’s something you’re not telling me?”

Michael shakes his head. “No, no. I just meant the bickering. It does get on both of our nerves sometimes, but we still continue to do it. Guess it’s just familiar. Nothing to worry about, of course. I promise.”

“Well, good,” Calum says. “Hope it’ll be good on my end, too.”

“It will be. I hope for you that you turn into yourself again soon.”

“Why? Miss hugging the real me?”

“Well yeah. But no, I just know you can’t wait to jump on Ashton’s dick, so–”

“Shut up,” Calum groans. “I swear, last warning, or I’m going to Luke–”

“Okay, okay, I’m kidding.” Michael holds him tighter. “I just want the two of you to have a healthy relationship in your respective bodies as well as fantastic sex. I think that’s reasonable.”

Calum ruffles Michael’s hair, getting it all messy, reveling in Michael’s laugh. He can’t bring himself to disagree.

***

Calum thinks about Michael’s words, and he thinks about what he feels, and about the fact that it all intensifies when he’s alone in the shower again, because he stops trying not to have fun. There’s a glimmer of guilt burning in his own eyes whenever he gets out of the shower and looks into the mirror, but he doesn’t linger on it.

Instead, he lets the last couple shows go by, and he and Ashton try to get answers still with no satisfying results. They ask Luke and Michael to look, too, but they don’t find anything helpful, either.

He can’t tell what’s happening between him and Ashton. Every time he looks up into his own eyes and finds Ashton staring back at him with intent, it feels important. Like Ashton is trying to tell him something, maybe reassure him, or tell him  _ I’m on the same page as you. _ There’s no way for Calum to really know, though. He feels like he’d be able to read Ashton better if he was actually  _ Ashton. _

It’s the end of the tour, and Ashton is still not Ashton, and Calum still isn’t Calum. He’s lying in the dark in his hotel bed — a treat for their last couple nights, as always — trying to figure out a way to finally talk to Ashton, tell him what’s on his mind and on his heart. He figures saying “when I woke up in your bed I thought it was because I’d jumped on your dick and I would like to actually do that” won’t do, even if that would be the easiest thing to say.

He still hasn’t figured anything out when there’s a knock at the door. He looks at his phone. 1:35 a.m.. This can only be one person.

“Come in,” he says, loud enough for Ashton to hear, low enough not to wake up his neighbours.

Ashton gets in, closing the door too fast for Calum to see anything more than a blurred silhouette. He can still feel Ashton walk his way in the dark. Whether it’s because it’s Ashton or because it’s his own body, he has no idea.

“Can I?” Ashton whispers, and Calum can’t see, but he knows what he means.

“Yeah,” he whispers back.

Within a second Ashton has climbed under the covers, the heat of his body reaching Calum instantly. The bed is quite big, but Ashton is lying barely a feet away from him, which does not help Calum into thinking clearly. They don’t talk for what feels like too long, and Calum feels like he’s holding his breath the whole time. He wants to reach out, he’s pretty sure Ashton does too, but they can’t. Not like that.

“You know what the worst thing about all this is?” Ashton whispers suddenly, startling Calum slightly. In the dark, he could almost be fooled that he’s talking to himself and going crazy, except for the fact that he can just hear Ashton’s voice bleeding through.

“What is it?” Calum asks just as softly. Ashton is in his bed. He came here, and he’s in his bed. Calum can’t risk breaking the atmosphere, even if the tension is killing him.

There’s no answer for a moment. Calum can hear Ashton thinking, debating whether or not he wants to say what he clearly came here to. Then a hand is taking hold of his, bringing it against Ashton’s chest, making Calum’s breath hitch slightly.

“It’s torture, being in your body, having it to myself,” Ashton says, breath ghosting over Calum’s cheek. “Every time I eat, I can feel your lips, even worse when I run my tongue over it, but I can’t taste you. Every time I look into the mirror, I stare into your eyes, but I can’t find your warmth in them. And everytime I take a shower, my hands wander over your body, and I can feel your skin, all soft and hard edges, but everything feels wrong. Because you’re not there.”

All the breath has left Calum’s body, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to drop dead at any moment now. The air around them feels thick; he feels like throwing back the sheets, but he can’t move.

“What?” he says, and it comes out weak and breathy. Ashton gets closer to him, lets go of his hand to cradle his jaw.

“It’s driving me crazy.” There’s a chuckle in his voice, but it’s humourless. “I want to feel your lips with mine, I want to know what you taste like, and I want to see your eyes glint with happiness when I make you laugh, and I want to see them turn darker when I touch you with my hands and make you go crazy with my own body.”

“Ash–”

“Can I kiss you?”

At Ashton’s words it gets hotter in the room, and fuck, this isn’t a good idea; Calum can feel himself getting excited, which is something he’s been trying to avoid while he’s close to Ashton. But, someone give him a break, he’s trying to process the fact that Ashton wants to kiss him (and more, apparently, which; okay), right now, in this bed.

“But we’re still,” he starts, clearing his throat. “We’re still… each other. Isn’t it going to be weird?”

“Cal,” Ashton almost pleads, and his lips are grazing Calum’s. “I won’t do it if you don’t want to, but it’s dark. We can pretend for a minute. And it’s just– just one kiss. Please.”

Calum doesn’t have to think about it for long before he’s bridging the small gap between them. It’s as easy as breathing, bringing their lips and bodies together, his hand flying to Ashton’s hair. He groans in frustration when he finds no hair to tug on, reminding him of the situation. Ashton must understand, because he soothes Calum by rubbing circles on his jaw with his thumb.

“It’s still me,” he whispers, before going back in, and Calum follows him without question. He lets himself get lost into the kiss, no matter how strange it is. But Ashton is right. Even if the physicality of it is unsettling, he can still  _ feel  _ Ashton; all his love, his passion, the way he touches Calum so carefully. 

At some point he realizes that, holy shit, after all this time, he’s finally kissing Ashton. He’s doing it, and Ashton said he wants to do more, make him go crazy, and fuck if that doesn’t light something bright and fiery in him.

“Cal, Calum,” Ashton says, breaking the kiss when Calum starts rocking his hips into his. They’re both hard, he can feel it, which probably means it’s time to stop. “I think– I think we should stop there,” Ashton breathes out regretfully, echoing his thoughts.

“Yeah, fuck, I know.”

“I want to kiss you forever,” Ashton whines, burying his face against Calum’s neck. “I will once we’re back to normal, mark my words. I’ll never stop.”

The words, whispered so casually in the dark, make Calum’s heart flutter stupidly, a different kind of warmth spreading through his veins. He doesn’t say anything to that, just rubs random patterns on Ashton’s shoulder while they breathe together and Calum tries to process the words. He’s not sure he succeeds, but he feels good, so he holds on to that. Surely it’s enough.

“Okay,” Ashton says, leaving the confines of Calum's neck and sitting up. “I’ll leave you to sleep, we can talk more about this–”

“No, stay,” Calum hurries out.

“What?”

“Stay?” he asks more softly. “We won’t do anything, just. Stay with me?”

He’s afraid he sounds too clingy suddenly, immediately thrown back to being seventeen and asking to spend every waking moment with Ashton.

“Scoot over,” is all Ashton says though, pushing Calum so he’s on his side, and then he’s nestling himself against his back, arm thrown carefully over his middle. Calum’s hand finds its way to it, holding on to Ashton’s wrist.

“I need to tell you something,” Calum says. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment, whatever it is, but he feels the need to be honest.

“What?”

“I, huh. I may have jerked myself off. While being like this.”

Ashton chuckles. “I know.”

Calum can feel himself freeze. “You do?”

“Course, I do. You’re not exactly quiet.”

“Oh.” He’s never been more ashamed of himself in his entire life. “Huh, sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s what gave me the courage to come here,” Ashton says, kissing the nape of Calum’s neck chastely. “Because, well. I’ve been doing the same, so I figured you were probably doing it for the same reasons I was.”

Calum doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t say anything, just frowns and squeezes Ashton’s hand to tell him he agrees.

“This sucks,” he whispers after a while. “I want you to be you.”

“We’ll figure this out,” Ashton says, reassuring. “And then we can do whatever we want.”

“Whatever we want,” Calum parrots. “I like that.”

“Good. Now sleep, Cal.”

And, in the safety of Ashton’s arms, he does just that.

  
  


***

  
  


He can tell something is different as soon as he wakes up, and he feels the strongest sense of déjà-vu. He just can’t place it yet.

He tries opening his eyes, but he’s too tired, and the sun is too bright, so instead he just groans and buries his face against the neck in front of him, plastering himself against Ashton’s warm body. He wraps his arm tighter around it, and he can feel hair tickling his forehead slightly.

He’s hungry as fuck, but Ashton feels good pressed up against him. He must make a too fast move, or maybe his stomach rumbles too loud, because he can feel Ashton squirm in his arms.

“You’re still here,” Ashton whispers, hands coming to hold Calum’s on his stomach.

“Of course I am, it’s my room, idiot,” Calum replies, a little louder, and just when he frowns at his voice, he can feel Ashton freeze.

“Holy shit,” Ashton lets out. “Cal? Are you…?”

He trails off, probably scared that he’s just dreaming, but Calum doesn’t think both of them could be making the same dream. Still, he’s holding his breath the whole time he opens his eyes, letting it out when they land on bright red hair.

“Holy fuck,” he says, letting out a relieved laugh. “Holy shit, Ash, turn around.”

He doesn’t let Ashton the time to do so, just rolls him onto his back so Calum can hover over him. He’s sure the smile on his face is ridiculously big, but he can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed when Ashton’s own smile is just as wide.

“Oh my god,” Ashton lets out, disbelieving. Calum can see it in his eyes,  _ his real eyes, _ the hazel orbs opening wider with wonder, incredulous.

Almost too slowly Ashton brings a hand up, as if scared that he’ll shatter the illusion if he touches Calum. But it’s not an illusion, and when Ashton’s hand comes into contact with his cheek, it feels so good and real that Calum wants to cry.

“God, I missed you”, Ashton says almost reverently before he can do that. They’ve been together this whole time, but Calum knows exactly what he means.

“I missed you too, stupid,” Calum says, leaning down to catch Ashton’s lips between his own. They both let out a happy moan at that touch alone. It’s so different from last night, as if then all the pieces of the puzzle had been here but they were all out of place. Right now, everything fits right where it’s meant to be, and they melt into each other instantly.

A hand slides down Calum's side to squeeze his waist, making him shiver as Ashton pulls back from the kiss. He looks almost debauched already, his usually pale eyes dark, glinting with lust and want but also something playful and soft, and they haven’t even done anything yet.

“I think we have things to do, don’t we?” he says breathlessly, hand moving to grip Calum’s ass. “What do you say?”

“I say I’ve been waiting too long for you to fuck me, so you better do it now,” Calum replies.

It only makes the glint in Ashton’s eyes shine brighter, a smirk tugging at his lips, and then he’s rolling them so Calum is on his back under him. When he leans down to kiss him, his whole body plastered against his, Calum lets out a satisfied sigh, and lets Ashton take him over.

***

They meet up in Luke and Michael’s room a few hours later for lunch. The boys have already ordered take out, and they’re arguing about the TV, or maybe just the remote, or both, when Calum and Ashton join them.

“Hey crazy kids,” Ashton says, back to his usual chatter; Calum couldn’t be happier.

He also can’t help but stare at his gorgeous profile, his very own smile spreading on his face at Ashton’s carefree, happy grin. His hair is still wet from the shower they just shared (which was a bad idea, because it took longer than anticipated) and his skin is still damp, a droplet of water even sitting in his left collarbone, soon to evaporate into thin air.

“So, finally back to normal?” Michael says from his spot on the bed.

Calum can feel himself flush stupidly all over. He must have stared for so long for Michael to notice the change. Or maybe they just hold themselves differently. The look on both Luke and Michael’s faces tells him it’s the former.

“Huh, yeah,” Ashton says, scratching at the back of his head. “We don’t know what the fuck that was about, and we’ll probably never know, but…”

Luke lets out a chuckle, cutting him off.

“What?”

Luke shrugs him off. “Nothing. I'm just glad you finally talked things out.”

Calum and Ashton both look at each other, twin frowns on their faces. “What?” Calum says. “How did you know–”

“Oh, I mean, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you’re practically dying to hold hands right now?” He looks pointedly where Ashton’s hand is brushing Calum’s, and yeah, okay. “Also, I mean. That looks like that’s what happened, right? You’re together now?”

“Luke, don’t be so nosy, Jesus,” Michael scolds, but he looks just as curious.

Calum looks at Luke suspiciously, and Ashton says, just as suspiciously, “I mean, we haven’t discussed specifics yet, but yeah, we talked last night.”

Luke nods, as if proud to have been right or something. Man, Luke really is weird sometimes. He and Michael really found each other.

“Well, anyway,” Luke says. “You don’t have to like, hide or anything. We heard you this morning. And we were very relieved to hear Ashton's name come out of Calum’s actual voice for once. Thank god for that.”

“Yeah, but fuck, you guys are both loud as fuck,” Michael says, in a way that means nothing good. “ _ Oh Ashton, yes, harder, right there, please don’t stop. Calum, you’re so fucking good, you’re so perfect for me, oh yes you’re so tig _ –”

“Oh my god stop,” Calum shouts, pleading. Michael just erupts into laughter, followed shortly by his boyfriend.

It’s like Calum’s entire body has turned the temperature up tenfold, and he can already tell he’s red all over. When he looks to his left, he can at least confirm that Ashton isn’t faring any better.

“Well,” Ashton says, clearing his throat. “At least now you know what that’s like. What we endure everyday.”

“Touché,” Michael says with one last chuckle, then pats the bed, beckoning them to sit.

Calum takes Ashton’s hand in his, the way he’s been wanting to. When he looks into Ashton’s hazel eyes, shining and beautiful, he feels at peace, and he feels at home, and he feels loved, no matter that Ashton hasn’t said so in so many words.

It’s alright, he thinks as he brings them both to the bed with their friends. They have time, as long as they don’t act like idiots.

  
  


* * *

  
  


When both Calum and Ashton leave the room a couple hours later, probably to go and bang some more, Michael turns towards his boyfriend. Luke is putting away the leftovers of their lunch, putting the containers on the coffee table, and what little there is of food in the trash.

“Come here,” Luke says when he’s done. Michael doesn’t hesitate, going to sit pressed up against Luke.

“You have such pretty blue eyes,” he says, to which Luke rolls his eyes. “You also have salad in your teeth.”

“Shit, do I?”

“Yeah, you do. Kinda ruining the aesthetic, babe.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Luke reaches inside his mouth with his finger, and with Michael’s gets rid of the piece of salad.

“All gone?” he asks.

“Let me check,” Michael says, and brings his mouth to Luke’s, swiping his tongue over his teeth in one fell swoop. “Yep, all gone.”

“Ew, gross, get off me,” Luke whines, but doesn’t complain when Michael gives him a chaste kiss.

“So,” Michael says when he’s done pecking Luke’s lips. He likes how red they are. “Are you really not gonna tell them?”

Luke shrugs. “Nah, not now anyway. It’s more fun like that. Let them be confused.”

Michael can’t help but roll his eyes and shake his head at that. “You’re a menace, Luke Hemmings.”

“Well, you gotta have fun sometimes, right? Otherwise life would be so  _ boring, _ don’t you think?”

Well, Michael can’t argue with that. 

“Plus, it helped them out, didn’t it?” Luke insists, and Michael shrugs. He’s not wrong there, either.

“Guess it did, though I’m pretty sure you had fun messing with them. I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me about you until this whole thing,” he says though, because his boyfriend is a sneaky little fucker. “We could have had… so much fun, all those years.”

“Well,” Luke says with a smirk, shoving Michael on his back and straddling him. His clear blue eyes suddenly turn a glowing purple, a luminescent mist of the same colour twirling around his hand when he moves it before taking hold of Michael’s wrists and trapping them against the mattress. “We can certainly have some fun now, love,” he says, leaning down to capture Michael’s lips.

Everything turns dark, and the fun starts.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> so...... Luke?
> 
> thanks for reading!  
> comments and kudos are always appreciated :)  
> as always i'm on [tumblr](https://michaelownsmyheart.tumblr.com/) if you want to come say hi!


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